Dichotomy is one of my favorite words (alongside any number of other words echoing the same concept: polarity, paradox, catch 22s) because it’s one of the things I like best about human nature. I warm up to those of us who can showcase complexity at its best. It’s also one of the favored themes in my written dribbles; it’s an easy theme to make said written dribbles drip with a certain richly dark, haunting timbre. But, suddenly, today birthed a thought: Why not a rich enough timbre in the more airy, comical aspect of this symbiotic divide?
So, here, we will explore that lighter side of the complex. And, risk that most readers, quite possibly never having known me personally, would (rightfully) tag me into the category of people better of use disposed in order to be of any value to the world, so ‘first world problem-riddled’ and spoiled my chronicled ‘life experiences’ will mark me out to be. Thank god, we humans are multidimensional, and there are infinite ways to be redeemed.
So, to dive right in….
Example of dichotomous human nature. I’m a self-proclaimed and other people-proclaimed shaker and maker, hustler, what have you in the career context. (My coworker, the other day, bought me a lighter emblazoned with a dollar-sign because what better else do I stand for?) Work? You mean a calling, a playground for the daily recreation of myself to territorially expand the outer edges of my limit, the opportunity to re-up on a fresh, cathartic injection of cerebral ‘buzz’ from the wheeling and dealing, the temporary fix for a game-deprived bloodhound. But, only work. So, while I just sent a calendar reminder to my CPA for a FAQ-type of consult on choosing between an S Corp, LLC, sole proprietorship and settled upon daily dollar cost averaging on my portfolio; while I make sure to shake a hand grasp firmly, while I thoroughly enjoy reading about the controversy of devolution for Iraqi groups or frontier-market ETFs or whatever…,outside of the professional, I am the proverbial Peter Pan Princess. Obviously, injecting above photo to hit home on this point. Age 30, and it’s my first time buying TP. Really? If I was someone else who didn’t know me…. I’d assume I was some dumb whore (usually, the dumb ones are also whores).
The comical beauty, beyond the darker stuff reserved for my other blog, is that I can be incredibly useful and incredibly useless. If you want someone to give resume pointers, talk shop on investments, alchemize a heart with the inhumane but effective ‘scarcity creates value,’ keep-him-on-his-toes kind of persona, draw not-bad, realist porn in a jiff, do up crass banter on “fluffers” and “clam divers” without any pretentiously feminine (or feminist?) mortification on my end, I could be your girl. Want someone to navigate the domestic daily-norms of life and you are in a whole different world with me, buddy. I go from a saucy-smart little minx to a Jessica Simpson-fashion (Think infamous tuna or chicken? chicken of the sea quote), doddering donkey. My friends are proud of the fact that my grocery list has graduated from “cereal and cigarettes’ to a hodgepodge of frozen dinners, yogurt, popcorn, and other easy forms of sustenance. Valuate me only from a domestic, manual-labor standpoint, and I’m a freaking cave man.
And, to further inject the comedic, refer back to the ‘realist porn,’ and sardonically redeem myself, here’s one of my renderings:
Future entries: More jovial takes on the dichotomous– alongside more carnal visuals and insertions of conversations with my friends that will one day be deservedly parlayed and marketed into a Seinfeld/Sunny in Philadelphia sitcom. Because we are dazzlingly stupid and smart.